Red Star and Twilight Eyes
by Kryssa's flute
Summary: A collection of short stories and drabbles centered around Akira, Takumi, and the people in their lives. Ch. 4: Takumi smells good enough to eat. Slight M rating.
1. Insatiable

Disclaimer: I don't own Mai-HiME nor anything canonical. All storylines are mine, though.

Rating: T, for Natsuki's mouth.

Author's Notes: This is the first of many short stories centered on Akira and Takumi. Some stories are going to skirt very close to 'M', though such chapters will be marked for those who would rather skip them.

* * *

**Insatiable**

The afternoon English tutoring with Yukino, the music lessons from Shiho and Alyssa.

The kendo practice with Tate and Takeda.

The weekend field trip with Midori to study underground ruins, which wouldn't have been so bad except that _he never told anyone that he was leaving in the first place_.

Takumi was driving Mai – and Akira – insane.

Ever since the surgery and his subsequent healing, he had displayed an amazing amount of stamina for learning. From athletics to extracurricular activities to an untold number of school subjects, Takumi was so dammed determined to experience all that life had to offer that anyone he asked for lessons or whatnot would automatically give in. Considering the company he and the two ex-HiMEs kept, it wasn't hard for him to find people willing to impart some kind of empirical wisdom on the energetic youth.

Didn't bode well for the two overprotective women, though.

"He wanted to know what it felt like," Natsuki said casually, though Akira didn't miss the annoyance in her voice. Akira would have preferred to talk to the gunslinger on her own, but Mai had unfortunately caught wind of Takumi's recent adventure and marched herself (dragging a reluctant Akira) to see Natsuki. "I don't know what you're so worried about. He's a big boy."

"I've seen the way you handle that thing, and it doesn't inspire any amount of confidence in me," Mai retorted, pointing at the offending vehicle. "I don't want him riding with you until you actually have some proof of competency – who knows what could happen because you're a bad driver?"

The air suddenly became cold, and Natsuki's eyes narrowed in unrestrained anger. "I am a _damn fine driver_! And I will take him riding again tomorrow, if only to spite _your_ anal-retentive ass! One of you two Tokihas needs a backbone, and it may as well be the one with balls!" She smacked her helmet down and sped away, leaving Mai and Akira in the dust.

"That could have gone better," Mai said sheepishly, carefully ignoring Akira's glare.

"Yeah. No shit."

As they walked back towards the girls' dorm, Mai sighed and said, "I guess we should be thankful he's not taking lessons from _Nao_."

A shiver of utter disquiet ran down Akira's spine.


	2. Bent

Disclaimer: I don't own Mai-HiME nor anything canonical. All the storylines are my intellectual property.

Rating: M, for implied adult relations (though not graphic).

Summary: Akira likes it rough.

Author's Notes: I don't write children in adult interactions, so the characters will always be written at the age of consent. Thus, assume that Akira and Takumi are over 18 in this short.

------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- -------------

Bent

Takumi was a kinky bastard. They had consummated their relationship barely a month ago, and already he was getting ideas.

"_What_ is it you want to do?" she asked nervously, staring at the long silk scarves in his hand. He knelt on the bed and pushed her down, straddling her as he lifted her wrists above her head. She let him tie her to the bedpost, curiosity outweighing apprehension.

Really, what could he do to her?

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you," he said, lips trailing their way down her exposed stomach until they reached their goal. "Though I _am_ going to make you scream."

And she did. Over and over.

The next day, when he asked how she liked it, Akira dragged him back into the bedroom and pulled out the scarves.

It was his turn this time.


	3. With Flair

Disclaimer: I don't own Mai-HiME nor anything canonical. All the storylines are my intellectual property.

Rating: T.

Summary: Akira's ninja skills are put to the test.

Author's Notes (4/21/07): Yeah, I have no idea where this little piece came from.

------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- -------------

With Flair

It was originally a teasing comment made on Mai and Midori's part that caused the mess in the first place.

"You want me to _what_?" Akira asked incredulously.

"We need a new bartender, and Midori-chan was saying that we should teach you how to do it," Mai said happily. "I think it's a great idea, and weren't you telling Takumi that you were going to start looking for a part-time job?"

Akira silently promised to have a long discussion with her live-in boyfriend about what to tell and what _not_ tell his nosy sister. "You do realize that I've never handled alcohol in my life. I've got no experience being a bartender."

"There are classes and on-the-job training," Mai said helpfully. "And we don't need you right away, so you'd have time to practice."

"Sorry Mai-san, but we don't need money _that_ badly. Find someone with actual training," Akira said dismissively.

Midori grinned and Akira frowned; the former wore that shit-eating smile whenever she was about to win an argument. "Oh, that's not a problem. I just made the suggestion because I thought you'd be good at it. Obviously, you think differently."

"Stop trying to bait me, Midori-sensei."

"Hey, I'm being helpful here," Midori said, holding her hands up. "Thinking of ways you can earn extra money without your class-work suffering. But you're right, you don't have any training. So is Takumi looking for a job too, even though he's going to be starting one of the hardest years in his college career?"

It was a more than tempting thought to quickly disembowel the redhead – both of them, really – but in the end Akira reluctantly agreed to go with Mai and get more information about the job. Both she and Takumi were both third years at Fuuka University, and Akira knew how much time and effort he needed to put into his studies if he was planning to go onto graduate school.

_The things you do for love,_ she thought with a grimace as Mai introduced her to the current bartender at the Star Sapphire. He looked her up and down, and Akira just gave him a deadpan glare in return.

"No offense," he said bluntly, "but you don't look like you'd handle the job too well."

_Oh really? _"What's so hard about it?"

He lifted one of the vodka bottles – tightly capped – and the stainless steel shaker. "Watch."

Then he began spinning them around his body, tossing them to himself in wildly complex moves and spins that looked very impressive. They danced from hand to hand, and when he set them down, he looked particularly pleased with himself. Both Mai and Midori clapped appreciatively.

_That's nothing_, Akira thought. _I could do better._

Midori's wink told her the same thing.

But rather than challenge the man here, she found herself more interested in the job. It was something that could keep her finger skills and reflexes up, and though it didn't involve dangerous weapons (more's the pity) she could get paid to basically throw stuff around and catch it. All she really needed to do was learn how to mix the drinks. So she asked, "Let's assume that I can do what you've just done. What else is involved in this job?"

The man gave her a look of disbelief. "You think you can do this?" he asked, tossing the shaker around again.

"Yes." She said it without a trace of pride; it was simply a fact.

He caught it and thumped it on the counter with an annoyed cough. "Fine. Come back tomorrow, and me and the manager will run you through."

Akira was about to protest when Mai gently grabbed her shoulder. "Hands-on training," she whispered.

So the kunoichi bit her lip and agreed.

The following day she returned to Mai's work about two hours before the restaurant was due to open for dinner. The manager asked her if she had any experience of the sort, and Akira said she didn't have the experience he wanted but she knew what she was doing.

"Do you, or don't you? Star Sapphire is famed for its bartenders having flair skills, and if you don't have them then you shouldn't be here," the current bartender said, then grumbled, "Shouldn't have listened to Tokiha. What the hell does she know?"

Akira's thinly-veiled annoyance suddenly turned cold and sharp. _You did not just insult my boyfriend's sister, did you? _"All right, asshole, I'll prove what I can do. Give me a couple of bottles."

He literally threw her three, watching with an arrogant smirk as he expected her to drop them.

It slowly disappeared over the next few minutes as the manager's eyes became wider with delight. And after she was done, she brought the bottles down and said, with great coolness, "This had better be worth it."

Two hours later, she had a free ride through bartending school and a job when she completed it.

Years later, even after she'd left Star Sapphire and found more lucrative, well-paying jobs in downtown nightclubs, Akira had to admit that it was a pretty good idea at the time.

Damned if she'd tell that to Mai or Midori, though.


	4. Intoxicating

Disclaimer: I don't own Mai-HiME nor anything canonical. All the storylines are my intellectual property.

Rating: M, for implied adult situations.

Summary: Takumi smells good enough to eat.

Author's Notes: With any 'M' stories, I always make sure the characters are written at/above the age of consent. However, this short would be set within the canonical series – and Akira and Takumi would only be 13. Sparing the soapbox tirade about kids and sex, suffice it to say that I will not write scenarios that puts children into such a situation.

So, to justify the existence of this piece, I warped canon. Pretend that Akira and Takumi met in college rather than junior high, and that the MH series took place when everyone's older. That makes The Couple In Question to be at least 18 during this short.

------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- ------------- -------------

Intoxicating

It was not by sight that Akira started to recognize Takumi, but rather by smell. Perhaps it was an odd affectation due to her ninja skills, but she soon came to appreciate it. She could tell where he was by the surrounding scents in the air, and quickly learned that she could divine his moods and thoughts by the subtle changes.

Most days, Takumi smelled of freshness. Not simply of mountain air or a clean uniform, but the state of innocence and open-heartedness that Akira found so utterly unique and different from herself that she couldn't put it from her mind. It was a scent mingled with sweat and a little bit of pain, colored softly with the austerity of soap and a bitterness like rich dark chocolate. His clothes smelled of the infirmary, but also of fire and oil and the residue of foods he had cooked that day. His hair, on the few times that she'd caught him in a headlock and could smell it, had a hint of his shampoo – a faintly almond-like fragrance – and of warm sunlight. The curtain that separated their beds was now permanently infused with the scent of grass and homemade cuisine. He smelled of paper and summer and rain and rice and laughter.

Sometimes Akira could make out more secret, esoteric scents; being a few inches shorter than him meant that she could get closer without being imposing. The back of his neck smelled like cooking sugar and icing; given the chance, she would have licked a fleeting line down its length just to see if her nose and tongue agreed. His hands were teasingly laced with the scent of resin and sweetness. Takumi had the habit of picking needles or bark from the evergreens just because he liked the texture, and combined with the frequency of his baking habit meant that his fingers smelled of pine and nutmeg, cedar and vanilla. It was so damn intoxicating that Akira had to fight with herself on a regular basis to keep from grabbing his hand and brushing her nose against his palm or the inside of his wrist for a deeper breath.

But the one thing that stood out most to Akira was how he smelled like a boy. He smelled of masculinity; for all his feminine character traits, he was still very much a man, though he wore it with youthful, unassuming charm. And while she played at being a boy, Akira utterly lacked that essence and was never more aware of it then when with her roommate. No other boy in the class had this effect on her; no other boy had such a strong yet subtle scent. And she found it desirable and heady, not cloying and overpowering. The more time she spent around Takumi, the more she wanted to smell and feel and simply be enveloped by him. It was a musk that, in more intimate thoughts, Akira imagined his thighs to be rich and ripe with, imagined what it would be like to gently (or not so gently) tease some of that scent onto her own body.

But it was a sensation that Akira knew would never be discovered.

It didn't stop her from wondering, though.


End file.
